Fallout: Hardware
by Lotric
Summary: My first fanfiction. plan to publish a chapeter every week or so. based in fallout world but story and charecters separate from games.hope you enjoy the story and please review with you thoughts and critisisms.


Fallout: Hardware

This place really is a shithole, well I guess 200 years and a nuclear winter does that. Golden letters, hanging over charred remains of a thick wooden desk say NATIONAL AIR AND SPACE MUSEUM. Three are missing and a few look like someone has tried to rip them of their chains, they would fetch a nice price at a junk dealer I guess. As I start to walk toward the desk I wonder how this complex could still hold any serviceable electronics. The floor is covered in a thick layer of grim and the scorched walls look like they would crumble with a strong gust of wind, not to mention the air which is thick with dust and smelling weakly of petrol. Any satellite or computer will be as useful as a ghoul whore these days and even if it did survive someone's obviously already scavenged the place. This is a waste of bloody time, but I'd never throw away the opportunity to make a three thousand caps for such simple work. Only been in rivet city a day before I was approached by a man in robes with a knapsack and 10mm pistol holstered at his side, interested in hiring a reliable mercenary such as myself. "The job is simple enough for even a local like you to understand. Three Grand Caps, upfront, and all we ask in return is you retrieve something valuable for me. a satellite that my colleagues and 1 have good reason to believe can be found here." the wrinkly man that would only identify himself as a Scribe Horton pulled out an surprisingly intact and clean map. Everything in the wasteland has some level of dust or grunge that's built up over the couple of hundred years since society was flushed down the shitter. Even things that have been preserved in a vault or safe have suffered some sort of deterioration, this was completely different. The paper was bleached white and crisp, it looked freshly printed. The man circled the museum with his finger and exclaimed in a posh and at times almost proud voice "Our own forces have been stretched to their limits in the battle to suppress the huge number of mutants infesting the DC area, so we are forced to hire outside help, even for a job of such importance." The man gave me a moment to speak, but I remained silent. "The hardware you will be retrieving was, and is state of the art. It contains the smallest computer ever made and a camera so powerful you can see a Mole rats gender from orbit. Together the whole package can fit on your back. We have the equipment to get it in space; this is the last piece of the puzzle. Underneath the museum is a military tech laboratory. The problem is we don't have a clue how to get in or where the satellite will be once you're there, you're going to have to do some research once you're inside. Look through some old documents, find a computer. I don't care just get me that satellite. Oh and I almost forgot, Take this." I was handed a metal box with a thick glass screen and rubber grips on the sides. With further examination I noticed a camera and two buttons on the back. The screen was completely blank. "Once you have finished the job take a picture of it with the left button and transmit it to our HQ with the right one once the image appears on the screen. Further instructions for drop off and payment will be transmitted to the device." The scribe dropped the knapsack, which I finally realized was full of caps; the sound it made when it hit the ground was very distinctive. "Keep the Equipment safe and get it quick and these won't be the last caps coming your way." And with that he turned on his heel and closed the door behind him with a loud clang. I hardly said a thing other than the occasional yes or ok the whole conversation. There was something about that guy that just screamed shut up and listen. I was never asked if I didn't want the job, it was as if we had a mutual understanding. He could see my eyes light up at the payment and was smart enough to tell I needed work. I hope now that this really is easy money, and that there isn't something big the Bastard hasn't told me.

Naturally I counted every cap, all completely identical with Nuka Cola Written on the top in tiny writing. Slinging the sack over my back I jogged up almost Brocken staircase to my room in the Weatherly hotel. There was hardly anyone around at that time of day, everyone was having Breakfast at Gary's Galley or whatever the hell that place is called. All the better I thought, don't want someone to notice I'm carrying a small fortune and rob me blind. Some of the people here are okay but there are more than a few I don't trust. After checking the coast was clear I pulled the door open and walked inside. My personal belongings were scattered on the desk next to a (as I had found out last night) surprisingly comfortable bed. There was a loose piece of sheet metal next to the door under which I stashed the money. Clichéd I know, but a reliable and in this case almost invisible hiding place. At this moment I felt happy for the first time in three months, running for your life across the American wasteland really gives you the shits after a while, and now I can stop running. Money really does make you feel free, especially when you have a bounty on your head. Maybe I'd set off for the hub as soon as I've done the job, pay the price those thugs put on my life and gamble the rest away on the strip. Sounded like fucking good plan if I'd ever heard one. I had arrived in my Kevlar vest and pants, intact other than a buildup of dust and the scarring from a pistol shot to the chest, the only good combat I saw the whole trip. I put on my belt and hastened on my combat knife and grenades. My Rifle busted on my arrival in the city, after misfiring while I was trying to hit an angry mole rat. Had to beat it to death with the butt, messy that. Looks like I'll be digging into my funds to buy myself a new firearm. I stuffed a small sack that I found under the bed full of caps, a hundred or so I guessed. And jogged down the staircase to the market. At Flack and Shrapnel I found an assault rifle, an accurate and powerful but unreliable weapon, which I grabbed for 50 caps. With most of what was left I bought a rifle scope with an adjustable zoom and a bandolier with 4 leather magazine slots, I already had the ammo. I stuck the scope to the top of the gun with some duck tape I got from the junk shop and after buying some stimpacks and bandages from a quick fix I left without hesitation. Needed to be on my way or it would be dark by the time I got to the museum. After climbing over piles of rubble and crawling though some of the most disgusting subway tunnels I could imagine, I found myself at a modern marble building, with night only just falling in.


End file.
